


The Stuff of Nightmares

by StBridget



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Nightmares, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 14:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14854187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StBridget/pseuds/StBridget
Summary: What Mac sees everyday is the stuff of nightmares.





	The Stuff of Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> MacGyver is property of CBS and its creators.
> 
> I've been stalled on my many ideas and looking for inspiration and motivation. This came to me at one in the morning during a bout of insomnia (yes, I did at least wait until morning to write it).
> 
> Enjoy!

What Mac saw in his day-to-day life was the stuff of nightmares—the blood, the violence, the weapons of mass destruction set to destroy civilization, the near-death experiences.  Mac relived them all in gory technicolor detail night after night—Nikki, Bozer getting stabbed, Riley and the plane, and Jack.  Always Jack—the Ghost’s bombs, Cairo, every bullet and stab wound, all of it.  And, most of the time, Jack didn’t survive.

Another day, another brush with death.  Jack had taken a through and through to the shoulder.  It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but they were an hour out from ex-fil, and it _would not stop bleeding_.  Mac spent the entire trip to the rendezvous in the backseat with Jack keeping pressure firmly on the wound while Bozer drove like a bat out of hell executing maneuvers that would make Jack proud.

It seemed like forever before the airfield rose before them, the waiting plane sitting on the tarmac.  By then, the blood had soaked through Jack’s shirt, Mac’s shirt, Bozer’s shirt, and Mac was contemplating saying “fuck modesty” and using Riley’s shirt as well.  Mac had never seen a more welcome sight than that plane coming closer and closer to them.

Matty had the foresight to send a medical team, and they immediately loaded Jack onto a stretcher.  They packed the wound, stopped the bleeding, and set up an IV drip of pain meds and antibiotics.  Even so, Jack was in and out of consciousness for the whole nine hour trip back to LA, feverish and delirious.  Mac never left his side.  Mac told himself he was doing it for Jack, keeping the other man grounded, letting him know Mac was there for him, but the younger man had to admit he was mostly doing it for himself.

Now they were back at Mac’s, Jack patched up and loopy from the pain meds, but the infection seemed to have been kept at bay.  Mac told Jack he was staying with them because Jack needed someone to look after him, but what Mac really needed was to know that Jack was nearby, safe and _alive_.

Jack had sacked out almost immediately on the couch, but Mac lay awake, aware that Jack was just a few feet away, a comforting presence Mac needed at that moment almost as badly as he needed to breathe.  He was reluctant to close his eyes, afraid Jack would vanish if he did, but at last, he gave in to exhaustion and fell into an uneasy sleep.

Just as Mac had feared, the scene haunted him in his dreams.  He saw the bullet hit Jack, saw Jack fall to the ground, saw the blood spurting out, not stopping, draining the life away from Jack in a river of red.  Mac saw it coat his hands as he tried frantically and unsuccessfully to stop the bleeding.  He saw Jack’s eyes glaze over and become dull and lifeless.  He saw it over and over again.  He heard himself scream “No, Jack, No! Nononononono!!!!!” over and over again.

Mac was yanked back to consciousness by someone shaking his shoulder.  He sat bolt upright, unsure where he was, eyes casting about frantically, looking for Jack’s broken body.  “Jack!”

Mac felt a grounding hand on his shoulder.  He placed his hand over it, grasping onto it tightly, letting its warmth seep into him and chase away the chill that engulfed him.  “Shh, Mac, it’s okay, I’m right here,” a voice said, penetrating the fog that surrounded him.  Jack’s voice.

Mac turned to the side and saw Jack’s face, realized it was Jack’s hand he had in a deathgrip.  Mac turned wondering eyes on his partner, drinking him in, unsure if it was really real.  “Jack?  Is it really you?” Mac asked, tentatively, afraid of the answer.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s really me,” Jack assured him.

Mac raised a hand to Jack’s face, running a thumb over his cheekbones, tracing around his eyes, caressing the warm, very much alive skin.  Mac sighed in relief, relaxing slightly, but the adrenaline from the dream still washed over him.  Without thinking, Mac leaned forward and captured Jack’s lips in a fierce kiss, devouring the older man’s mouth, trying to suck Jack’s very essence into his soul.  Mac’s tongue darted out to run along the seam of Jack’s lips, begging for entrance.

It wasn’t granted.  Jack wasn’t kissing back.  Horrified, Mac pulled back, covering his mouth with his hand as though he could rub away his misstep.  “Oh, God, Jack, I’m so sorry!”

Jack put his good hand on Mac’s arm, gently pulling it away from his mouth.  “Darlin’, if that’s what you need to convince yourself I’m okay, you can kiss me as much as you want.”

Mac couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  Was Jack really saying what Mac thought he was saying?  Mac’s face must have betrayed his confusion.  This time, Jack leaned in, pressing his lips gently but firmly to Mac’s.  It wasn’t the frantic, life-affirming kiss Mac had initiated.  It was slow and gentle, soft and tender.  Jack’s warm lips moved against Mac’s, filling him with warmth, filling him with love.  Mac felt like he was wrapped in a bubble, safe from the nightmares haunting him, surrounded in Jack.  Mac closed his eyes and drifted on the sensations.

At last, the kiss ended, and Mac reluctantly opened his eyes with a contented sigh.  Jack was looking at him fondly.  The older man brushed his partner’s hair away from his face.  “Go to sleep, Mac.”

“Will you stay?” Mac asked, hesitantly.  He didn’t want to lose this feeling, didn’t want to lose _Jack_.

“Of course, darlin’.”  Jack lay down on his back and patted his chest.  Mac obediently scooted next to him, laying his head on Jack’s broad chest.  Jack’s heart thumped under Mac’s ear, strong, steady, and comforting.  Jack wrapped his good arm tightly around Mac.  He kissed the blond head.  “Sleep, baby.  I’m right here.”

Mac closed his eyes and let the beat of Jack’s heart lull him into sleep.

He didn’t have a single dream.


End file.
